Page 113 of Home Is Where You Are

I have one last confession to make.

Yours,

Gentry

Confession.

What would he have to confess now?

My heart pounded as the piece of paper dropped to the floor.

I sat down on the bed, careful not to wrinkle the dress as I went over the words I’d just read in my head.

Part of me wanted to race out of the house and say screw the dress.

No way could I do what I’d intended when I came home early now.

Instead, I quickly undressed and slid the material over my head.

The dress was simple yet beautiful. It hit me at the top of my knees. He knew me so well.

Carefully, I bent down and pulled my boots on.

I walked over to the dresser and looked in the mirror. My hair was still in waves down my back, but if he wanted me to meet him outside in this heat, I’d have to do something with it.

I fluffed it out with my fingers and grabbed a ponytail holder and made sure I got all the lumps out before I tied my hair back into a low side ponytail. The curls that flowed down across my shoulder made the look more sophisticated.

I took a deep breath as I shut my eyes.

Then another.

And another.

Until I was ready to face the confession Gentry had to share with me.

Without procrastinating any longer, I walked to the door, grabbed my keys, and set off for my parents’ house.

I parked my Jeep in the driveway and looked around the backyard. No one was around and all was quiet. Not unusual for this time of day, but something felt off.

On shaky legs, I exited the Jeep with my phone in hand and walked toward the tree.

With every step I took, my anxiety grew worse.

My mind couldn’t stop thinking of what he could possibly have to say.

Everything was going well.

The tree came into view, but there was no sign of Gentry.

I looked down at my phone and checked the time. It was a little after four. Maybe he hadn’t finished his last tour just yet. The note made it seem like I should come right away. Like he knew I’d be leaving work early. But maybe I was wrong.

The sun was high in the sky, and the closer I got to the tree the more I longed for the shade it would provide.

I was about twenty feet away from the tree when I stopped dead in my tracks. My mom and dad were heading in the same direction as me, riding my dad’s horse.

What in the world was going on here?

I couldn’t move.